


After the Fall, Life Happens

by theweird1



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angry!Greg, Angry!John, Angst, Blow Jobs, Breaking Up & Making Up, Comfort, Fancy dinners, Furious!John, John taking a long time to forgive Sherlock, M/M, Mycroft apologizing, Mycroft saying I love you, Nosy Sherlock, and whatever I think of adding later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-18
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-12 05:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweird1/pseuds/theweird1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock's fall Greg and Mycroft start dating. All seems well until Mycroft breaks it off after only nine months. Now months later Sherlock has returned and Greg is happy to see the man, but not his brother. Mycroft on the other hand has plans to win back his lost love, while Sherlock tries to win back his only friend in the world.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ghosts of Boyfriends Past

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is not beta'd in any way shape or form. I am History major, not an English major. With that said I have tried to do the best to catch all the mistakes, but I know there will be some. Bear with me and if you see one don't hesitate to point it out. I am also American and know nothing of British speech, aside from what I have read and/or watched. So I do my best.
> 
> This fic had been planed out by not completed. I will post a chapter (hopefully) every week. Bear with me I am in my final semester of college and have a lot going on. 
> 
> That said, I hope you all like my fic as much as I love writing it.

 

 

Greg clapped Sherlock on the shoulder. Finally the man was back after year and a half. He would stop getting little notes and clues and have the man back to annoy him with his brilliance in person. John looked like he was still angry at Sherlock. The bruise he had given Sherlock three days previous was to starting to lighten in color, but it was still purple.

Honestly only Sherlock could come back from the dead and expect everyone to be happy. Greg had suspected Sherlock was behind all of the little notes about different cases, but he had not been 100% certain either way. But now the man was back and that was all that mattered. He could be pissed later.

It seemed the only reason that Sherlock could come back with that the three assassins that had been entrusted to kill Sherlock’s only friends were out of the way. One was dead and the other two were in prison in Africa and Iraq. He no longer had to worry about them so he returned, picking midnight, on a stormy night to surprise John. Who pulled a gun on him. Then when you notice who it was promptly punched him in the jaw. Not the welcome Sherlock had been expecting but it was what he deserved.

“I’m glad you are back” Greg said smiling.

“That makes one person.” Sherlock was looking out of the side of his eyes at John who was still tense. He had been that way since Sherlock have returned, only barely relaxing when he slept, then tensed up again when he awoke, as if he expected Sherlock to do something like disappear again.

“He is just as happy to see you as I am.” Greg countered and he knew John was, but he could also see how angry John was.

“I am not angry,” John finally spoke for the first time since Greg has stopped by. “I am furious!”

“And you would've done the same thing.” Sherlock spoke, not looking at John.

“Same hardheaded prick as always.” John blurted out, throwing up his hands.

“I should hope so or that would mean there are two Sherlock’s and God knows that would be the end of the world,” came a voice from behind him.

“Mycroft, I was wondering when you would turn up. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me.” Sherlock spoke, not turning to look at his older brother but he did look at Greg, who had gone still and tense. He turned to look at John as if to ask, with a look, what was going on when he saw John looking between Greg and his brother. Finally Sherlock turned around to see that Mycroft was staring straight at Greg, who slowly turned around but was not looking at the older Holmes. Again Sherlock looked at John and this time John met his eyes. John gave a gentle shake of his head, telling Sherlock not to question just yet.

Greg shifted and turned to Sherlock putting on a fake smile. “I will let you get settled before we go over any other details.” Greg said, then turned to leave. Mycroft stepped inside the flat to let Greg pass.

“Gregory.” Mycroft said softly, trying to catch the other eyes. 

“Mycroft.” Greg clipped out, not looking at him as he passed and nearly ran down the stairs. A moment later the door downstairs slammed.

“What…” Sherlock started before he was interrupted by Mycroft, who spoke to John as if Sherlock was not there.

“He still not gotten over the breakup.” He said as a statement and not a question.

“Yes.” John replied. And now it made sense. During his time away something had brought Greg and Mycroft together then broken them apart. That made sense, Mycroft was like Sherlock. Love and attachment were not worth what other people paid. Sherlock looked at his brother and his brother looked at the stairs as if waiting for Greg to come back up to them.

“It seems a lot has changed.” Sherlock started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with chapter title.


	2. Missing and Forgiving

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter. I have been waiting for a week to post this one. This one is a bit longer. There is not sex in this one, but no worry next chapter has the sexy times. Again not beta'd or britpicked. I hope you enjoy.

 

Greg laid his head against the steering wheel. Four months had gone by since he had seen Mycroft. Not that he counted, ok maybe he really did. Six months since Mycroft had ended their tryst and fifteen since it had started. Greg had thought they were doing great. They had even exchanged keys, although Greg spend most of their shared nights at Mycroft’s brownstone in the heart of London. Mycroft had even taken Greg to his manner outside of London for the weekend. Greg did not expected anything when Mycroft invited him to Greg’s favorite Italian restaurant. The lasagna was so good that, in some countries, it could be used as currency. The plates just been cleared away when Mycroft announced that the relationship was at an end and asked for his key back. 

It had taken a full minute to let everything set in, then, like all good movies, he started yelling at Mycroft for being an arsehole and took the key off his key ring and threw it at the man and walked out. Needless to say he was very embarrassed when he calmed down, about six hours later. Then he had called John and all but cried out his heart. A car horn jerked him out of his thoughts and he looked up to see the light had changed to green. He sighed and pushed on the pedal.

He did not see Mycroft for three weeks until he attended a banquet for a close friend that was getting an award. Mycroft didn't even bother to say hello to him. After that Greg made sure to avoid him like the plague. He saw him twice more before a long break when he thought he had gotten over him. But that voice. It brought back all the memories of the happiest time of his life, besides his early days as a married couple with his ex-wife.

Why did the arsehole have to bring that all back? He should’ve known that with Sherlock back Mycroft would be hanging around. Well he would just have to give that man a taste of his own medicine, starting with getting pissed drunk and going home with a girl with nice tits.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Okay he got pissed, but at his flat and the only “woman” in his flat was via the telly. So all he got out of the night was a bad hangover and a bin full of tissues. He took a shower until the hot water ran out. After that he put the kettle on to boil and put bread in the toaster. Soon he had breakfast that only serve to depress him more. He sat down in front of the telly and watched every news station and their coverage of Sherlock’s reappearance.

-=-=-=-=-=-

Greg was still looking at the body when Sherlock showed up on the scene. John was behind him and all was as it should be, until Sherlock started asking the most personal questions about Greg his relationship with Mycroft.

“One more question and I will take everything back about being happy you are back.” Greg finally said after Sherlock started to ask about sexual positions that they have tried. Really, Sherlock should have been disgusted with the thought of his brother buggering a friend, but as always Sherlock had a morbid fascination and anything he didn't understand. John had already gone a permanent shade of red from embarrassment.

“I knew he was a boring lover. So conservative.” Sherlock said moving the hand of the dead woman to look at her palm. Greg wanted to say that Mycroft was more adventurous than Sherlock gave him credit, but that would then start a whole new line of questioning that he was not wanting to talk about. So he didn't say anything and let Sherlock finish his observation. After Sherlock had moved on to observe something else, John moved to stand next to Greg. 

“Sorry, mate. Didn't know he would do that.” Greg smiled

“If he didn't I would think he had gone mad.”

“Mycroft ask about you, the other day. He seemed worried.” John said and Greg brushed it off with a shrug.

“Then he can ask me himself.”

“And you think he will? Or better question, will you even talk to him?” John raised a brow.

“I am over him.” Greg said, but he could see that John believed him just as much as he himself did. “So he can come and talk to me himself.”

“Alright I will let him know.” Sherlock said behind them as he typed out the message and hit send. Greg spun around and grabbed the mobile, but there was no use. He growled and shove the mobile back into the other man’s hands.

“You’re working with Anderson.” Greg said as he stomped off to vent, less he squeezes the last breath out of the tall man’s frame.

-=-=-=-=-=-

The restaurant was a four or five star. Two or three stars more than Greg would even think about eating at. He would have come here when he was still dating Mycroft though. Greg was in a nice suit and tie going to meet the same man that had dumped him not six months ago. Why was he going to meet this arse? He still didn’t know, but he was being shown to a table where the other man was waiting for him. Greg couldn't help but think that Mycroft still looked as handsome as ever even if Greg was glaring at him. Greg sat down on the other side of the table, across from the other man.

“Hello Gregory.” Mycroft smiled, gently at him. The tone and happiness grated on both his nerves and heart.

“Mycroft.” Greg said that, a little clipped.

“I am glad you came.”

“I didn't want to but John told me to come or he would never let Sherlock work with me again.”

“I see.” Mycroft nodded. “That might be a good thing.”

“I thought of it that way, but then again he is wanted sometimes, unlike others.” Greg said. The waiter approached them and asked would Greg want to drink. He desperately wanted a shot, more like a bottle, of whiskey, but he needed clear head. He only ordered water. As the waiter departed Mycroft spoke.

“I see you are readying for a fight.”

“I wish I would have known last time, I would've asked for the water over the bourbon. Then gotten drunk afterwards.”

“I am sorry, Gregory. I should've told you differently.”

“Or you should've never broken it off with me.” Greg said.

“Gregory, we were at the end of our association. We needed to move on.”

“No, you need to move on. I was perfectly happy where I was, actually I wanted us to take it further. Maybe to move in. I realized we had only dated for nine months, but maybe in three months time…”

“I did not.” Mycroft said. “I assumed you would be…”

“Did you even love me?” Greg interrupted.

“What?”

“Did you even love me?” The waiter took that exact moment to bring Greg his drink and ask if they were ready to order. They both ordered, neither caring what they had order, just wanting the man far away. After he left there was a long pause before Greg spoke again. “I suppose not.” He looked down at his hands.

“I did, I do… I’m just not sure. I have never felt these feelings before.”

“So you thought breaking up with me was the best solution?” Greg scoffed. “You idiot.” But his voice held no malice, actually it was affectionate.

“I assume that this feelings would dissipate after our split.”

“And what happened?” Greg asked, smiling.

“The feelings have not abated. They seem to have only grown.”

“But why not come back?” The tone of the whole conversation had gone from tense to pleasant. Greg was happy that the other had been feeling just as bad as he had.

“I did not want to admit… defeat.” Greg started to laugh, the laughing interrupted some of the closer patrons. Mycroft apologize but waited for Greg to stop laughing. “I am glad I can still make you laugh.”

“Sorry My, it was just funny, but not surprising. You let us go through hell for six months.”

“Yes.” Mycroft nodded. They were silent for a long while. Their food came. They both looked at the food in front of them, neither were hungry anymore and Greg was not sure if he’d been beginning.

“Well I am not going to welcome you back with open arms, you were not the only one paying. And if I let you get away with it you will only see me as pushover.” It was Mycroft’s time to laugh.

“No, you are certainly not a pushover.”

“Even when it comes to your brother?” Greg asked, picking at his dinner.

“Everyone is a pushover for Sherlock, whether or not they know it. Sherlock tends to get what he wants.”

“Yes he does.” Greg nodded and took a drink of his water.

“I am a loss of what to do to rectify the situation.”

“Oh, you wine and dine me and be extremely posh. You can win me back easily. It is the pain that will be harder to win over. Let’s start with an apology.” Greg said. Mycroft’s fork was midway to his mouth. Mycroft Holmes did not apologize. He sat the fork down and wiped his mouth with the pristine white cloth from his lap.

“I…” he stopped and coughed. “I am truly sorry for what I have,” he gestured with his hand as if that was the end of what he had to say.

“No you are not getting out of it that easy. Finished the statement.” Mycroft colored slightly.

“I am sorry for what I have done to you and to our relationship.” Greg smiled.

“You never mentioned us is a relationship, it was always implied.”

“Then I am sorry for that as well.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with chapter title.


	3. 2nd Date, 2nd Time Around

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. RL kicked me in the butt, but this chapter is worth the wait. So on with the sexy times.

 

 

Their second date was just as comfortable is any other date they had before the breakup. That is if you considered their last meeting a date. Which they both did but neither said anything to the other. The date was made the end of the week. Mycroft had dropped Greg off at his with no more than a kiss to his cheek. He was going to be gentle man he told Greg. 

“I will be better than I was before.”

“You already are. You told me you were sorry.”

The date took place a Greg’s place. It was suppose to be at a well known Italian restaurant, not Greg’s favorite place. They were not ready to go down that road yet. Greg had had a long day and had completely forgotten about dinner plans until he was home and in lounge clothes. He was debating on whether to order in Chinese or something else when his mobile rang. He looked at and saw Mycroft name flash and it dawned on him. He answered the phone like a sailor on a bad day.

“Fuck, damn! My I completely forgot. I will be there in less than half an hour.” Greg was already up off his couch and trying to find something to wear.

“No Gregory. You stay there and I will come to you.” Greg stopped in the middle of his bedroom.

“Uh…. Okay.” We looked around, his flat was in complete disarray. “See you in a bit.” Greg ended the call. He stood for a moment before jumping into action. He threw everything on the floor of his bedroom is his tiny closet. You move to his living room and threw things into and under anything, trying to hide them from sight. Next he took a towel and ran it over every empty space. He added it to a pile of junk in his cupboard under the sink. He was just getting out the Hoover when there was a knock at the door. He put it back and straight his lounge clothes, which were a pair of gray lounge pants and a soft, plain, white shirt. 

Greg paddled over to the door and opened it. Mycroft was holding a sack of food and a wine bottle in his hand. He let the other man into his flat. Mycroft was still in his ever popular three-piece suit that looked like it had just been pressed while Greg was in just his old lounge pants and a plain top. Greg had to chuckled.

“Looks like I’m a little underdressed.” He flushed a little.

“Oh no,” Mycroft smiled, looking Greg up and down. “You look perfect.” Mycroft came in and sat the food and wine on the side table near the door area then took off his suit jacket and unbuttoned his waistcoat. “You look more relaxed since our meeting date.”

“Well to be honest, I was ready for a fight.” Greg said. He took the food to his small coffee table. “You know where the plates are, why don’t you get us out some.” Mycroft moved to the kitchenette and pulled out two plates, two glasses, and two forks. He brought them over and sat down. Greg loved Italian so Mycroft had brought lasagna from the restaurant, he also include a salad, he was still on a diet of course. Greg dump the food out onto the plates. Greg hated the containers that the food came in, it reminded him of the frozen meals of his bachelor time and he didn’t want to relive his 20s that way. Mycroft poured the wine into the glasses and took a sip. Greg gave Mycroft his food and sat down next to him.

“Reminds me of our old dating style.” Greg grinned at him. “When we would eat at someone’s house and then shagged the night away.”

“We did little else.” Mycroft smiled. “Well we did talk a lot, though. Usually via phone or that horrid texting you and Sherlock about love so much.” Greg laughed.

“When we can’t talk it helps communicate through text.”

"Or to tell me, while I was in a meeting with the Indian ambassador, about how much you wanted to get down on your knees and suck me.” Greg went red and giggled slightly.

“I was fucking horny at that moment. As you remember, we had not been together for a month, because of your stupid trip to Russia and a triple homicide carried out by that insane 10-year-old neighbor, and oh yes John was still depressed because of your idiot brother.”

“We did have a nice time later that day.” They both smiled. Greg noticed that neither of them had eaten very much of their food. Greg sat his plate down.

“Yes we did.” Gray concurred. “Didn’t get to blow you as long as I wanted to, but a nice time was had by all.” Mycroft said his plate down.

“I remember you calling out my name. I always loved when you did that.” Greg moved closer to Mycroft.

“You love my voice” Greg said.

“That I do.” Mycroft reached a hand up to caressed the other’s face. He also moved closer until their knees were touching.

“My…Would you be disappointed if I said I didn't want dinner?”

“I am just hoping we are on the same page. We did not have sex until two months into our relationship. I did not want to presume…”

“You were the first man I had been with and I was a virgin at the time. I want to go to bed with you, My.” Greg smiled.

“Lead the way, Gregory. I am all yours.” Greg stood up and pulled Mycroft up off the couch and towards the small bedroom, then it dawned on him.

“Um, we have a problem.” Greg said.

“I don’t care about the cleanliness of your bedroom, Gregory.” Greg blushed slightly.

“Well I know you like things precise but that’s not the problem. I don’t have any condoms.”

“Oh.” They both stopped in the doorway of the bedroom.

“I have not been with anyone else and I was tested after my ex-wife told me about all her lovers. I am clean.” Greg offered.

“So am I.” Mycroft didn't continue with any more information. “I have never gone bare.” Mycroft added after a moment.

“Do you want…?”

“If you all right with it.” Greg smiled.

“Yes.” Mycroft smiled back and push the other against the door frame and kissed him for the first time since they got back together. One or both of them moan, but it was hard to tell the difference. They were connected at the lips, with arms wrapped around each other. Mycroft pushed his leg between Greg‘s, causing the DI to grind his groin down onto the others knee.

Mycroft pull the other into the bedroom and pushed him towards the bed. Greg was trying to unbutton Mycroft’s shirt. He was thankful that Mycroft had taken the suit jacket off and unbutton the waistcoat but there was still too many buttons on the damn shirt. Finally with three buttons to go he ripped them from their stitches.

“Now, now, Gregory. This is expensive shirt.” Mycroft said but he was not angry, as he shook the shirt and waistcoat off.

“Then have your tailor send me the bill.” Greg growled as he attacked free skin, not caring that Mycroft was trying to get Greg’s clothes off and push him down on the bed. “Gregory, if you keep this up we will never get on the bed.”

“I’m good with this.” Greg nibbled at his neck and Mycroft groaned and roughly pulled Greg’s top over his head and pushed him onto the bed. Greg grinned up at him. He loved when Mycroft became so out-of-control that he became more forceful than he would otherwise. Mycroft removed his belt and trousers, leaving just pants on all the while staring intently at Greg. His cock was tending his pants. Greg’s cock had a matching bulge in his sleep pants.

“Is that your services pistol in your pocket or are you just happy to see me.” Greg laughed and pulled his pants off.

“Shut up.” Greg said.

“What?” Mycroft asked, but he knew his analysis was cliché but he didn’t care and stepped out of his pants. They were now both naked in the light of the sitting room. They just looked at each other.

Greg blushed first. “Need to get the gym more often.” He said about himself.

“I think you’re perfect.” Mycroft leaned down to kiss and a slow, languid kiss. It conveyed all the feelings had for each other, even if they didn’t know how to express those feelings. Greg then pulled Mycroft down onto him on the bed and continued his exploration of the other’s mouth. Mycroft put his hands on either side of Greg’s head, and Greg hands ran over Mycroft’s back.

For the next few minutes the air around them was filled with breathy moans and intermittent cries of “Yes!”. Mycroft was the first to break away. He leaned over and opened the bedside table. He plucked out the lube and noticed the condom under some papers. Picking it up he held in front of the other.

“Found one.”

“Oh.” Greg reply, but he was already looking forward to going bare. “Do you want it?” He asked. Mycroft shook his head and threw it over his shoulder.

“I only want to feel you.” Mycroft leaned back down to kiss him. Greg felt the cold lube on his hot hole.

“God! Fuck, warn a man next time.” Mycroft grinned. The lube started to warm as Mycroft’s finger rub little circles before he pushed a finger inside and Greg groaned. “Fucking hell, yes!” Greg yelled. He had missed this feeling so much. “Love your fingers.” Mycroft chuckled and pushed a second finger in.

“You’re so tight, I hope not hurting you.”

“No, no. I want more. Please. I need your cock!” They cried out as he pushed back against his lover’s fingers. A third one was pushed in and he was being stretched for something much bigger.

“So beautiful.” Mycroft said as he pulled the fingers out. “Hands and knees.” Greg panted then grinned before rolling over onto his stomach and pushing his arse up in the air.

“Bossy much?” Greg laughed but his laugh died in his throat as Mycroft started to push his cock into Greg. “Fu… Oh God!” He was being split open and it hurt but it felt so good. “Yes, fuck.”

“I love it when you curse.” Mycroft said.

“Love it when you do.” Greg gasped as he clinched around the other.

“Gregory, fuck!” Mycroft thrust farther in and dropped over Greg, hands on either side of his lovers head. “You are evil.” Greg smiled.

“But you love me for it.”

“Yes,” Mycroft said and Greg looked over his shoulder, surprised. “I do love you, Gregory, even if I don’t on how to love you like I should.”

“Then I will teach you.” Greg push back, encasing Mycroft’s cock fully inside his tight heat. Mycroft cursed again. “Now move, Mycroft. Fuck me like you mean it!” Mycroft complied.

He pulled out almost all the way and thrust back in hard causing Greg’s eyes to cross for a moment. He forgot about how good sex was with Mycroft. Not just the sex but the intimacy of being with the man that had not only his body but his heart. “Oh fuck, My!” Greg gasped as the other man hit his prostate and his vision started to blur. “More, please My, more!”

“You feel wonderful, Greg.” Only in the ecstasy of making love would Mycroft call him by his nickname. “So much better bare.”

“Yes, I can feel everything.” Greg agreed. It was bloody fantastic, the best sex to date, but then again each time with Mycroft was better than the last. Mycroft leaned down to kiss and mouthed along Greg’s neck and shoulders. At the rate Mycroft was going Greg was not going to last long. All of a sudden Mycroft pulled out. Greg didn't even get to protest before he was being rolled over and his lover thrust back into him.

“Oh God!” Greg cried out as he was breached again.

“Need, oh fuck! Need to see your face. Want to see you come.” Mycroft managed to get out between thrusts.

“Yes, oh God yes.” Greg moaned. “Want to see you to. Want to see you as… OH FUCK! Fuck me harder! See you as you come inside me.” Neither of them was going to last much longer. Mycroft gave a particularly hard thrust against Greg’s prostate and Greg was lost. He couldn't even get the words out as his come bathed both their chests. Like it had been the times before Mycroft thrust a few more times and still as he came. The feeling of wet hot come filling him up was not as bad as he had always thought. It was fantastic. He fell completely and utterly owned.

-=-=-=-=-=-

“Well that’s it. I am officially a pushover.” Greg said. Mycroft had gone to the bathroom to get a cloth to wash them off. He made sure to get most of the come that had leaked out of his lover. The feeling of dry come in him wasn't particularly nice but a shower a bit later would help, he need to first get the feeling back into his legs.

“Hm?” Mycroft was a cuddler, but he would never tell anyone under penalty of death, but he was a cuddler. Maybe more for Greg, for the DI always had mind blowing orgasms with Mycroft.

“I told you that I would not let you back in with open arms and here I am five days later recovering from one of the best orgasms I have ever had in my life.”

“I told you I would not see you as a pushover. And I recalled that it was you that wanted to go jump into bed.” He wasn't accusing him.

“Oh and you didn’t?” Greg moved so he could see the other’s face better.

“Yes I did, I do, but not until you gave me permission. I would have waited for you to be ready.” Greg smiled at the other. That was so close to any declaration of love for Mycroft that he had ever heard, other than during the sex.

“Give me another 20 minutes and I will be willing to go again.” Greg grinned and kissed Mycroft on the lips. Mycroft returned the kiss, pushing the other back onto his back.


	4. “Can you not deduce my sex life? Least of all at a crime scene.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A short chapter with mostly domestic fluffiness, but we are starting to get a glimpse as the work Sherlock needs to do to repair his friendship with John. And the first two sentences that Greg say are my favorite of the story.

 

“Can you not deduce my sex life? Least of all at a crime scene.” Greg with getting more and more tired of Sherlock. Did the man really need to know every aspect of Greg and Mycroft’s relationship? It seemed that he wanted to know more about their sex life than anything else. Even John could not assuage Sherlock from asking any question that came to mind.

“I merely want to understand your attraction to my brother.” Sherlock stuffed his hands in pocket as the body was then taken away.

“I like him and he likes me, end of discussion.” Greg groaned. “Now start thinking about the case and not about Mycroft and me fucking.” Greg hissed into the detectives ear. He gave John one last look and stomped of to his car.

“You are a git.” John said, walking off to get a cab.

“John I must understand their attrac…”

“No, just stop.” John stopped turned to face Sherlock. “If this is not about the case, we do not speak.” He said shaking a finger at the detective.

“That cannot possibly help us. I thought you were no longer angry at me. You made me dinner last night.”

“Only because you would not eat if I had not.” This was of course true. “Just…” John started. “Just shut up.” John turned and returned to walking to the main road.

-=-=-=-=-=-

They both downed their first pint before they even started speak.

“Sherlock has been better about his questioning as of late.” Greg looked at John as he ordered another for the both of them. In fact in the past month since they found the last victim, of what they now dubbed the High Street Rapist, Sherlock had stop asking any questions about Greg and his lover. In fact even his texts were only about the case. Sherlock seemed subdued. John did to, even if he tried not to show it. 

John shrugged as their beers came. “I have had no part in that.”

“Bull.” Greg laughed. “Whether you know it or not you have a great deal to do with it. Your flat is so cold there is ice between you. You don’t talk unless it is about the case. That is not how you two use to be. You are friends.”

“Were friends.” John interjected. 

“Are, John. Whether you like it or not. Yes, he left you but he did it to save us. Give him a fucking break.” Greg snapped, then took a breath. “Sorry.” But John was silent, silent for a long time. Greg was worried that John would get up and leave. They drank their beers as slow tense moments passed before John finally spoke. Almost to himself.

“When he leaves, again, I will be prepared.” Greg looked at him with his mouth open in surprise.

-=-=-=-=-=-

“This is going to be one big, long week.” Greg said on the phone. It was Monday night and another body had been found. They were supposed to meet for lunch, but that was canceled in favor of a stale pastry and ass chewing to Anderson for sending Sherlock away from the scene. Dinner plans had also been canceled and now at midnight Greg was home and needed someone to talk to. Mycroft was always there. He rarely went to bed like “normal” people.

“Isn't it as always.” Came the smooth voice over the mobile.

“Yes, but unless you kidnap me, with a good reason, we will not be able to see each other for a long while. Maybe not until the case is over.”

“Oh dear.” Mycroft chuckled. “Then I hope Sherlock solves the case before breakfast.” Now it was Greg’s turn to laugh.

“I do too.” Greg said sitting down on his couch They talked for another 20 minutes before Greg was falling asleep on the line. They ring off and Greg went to bed. He slept until his alarm went off, which was too early for him. He got up and showered, shaved, and dressed. He went about making coffee then breakfast when he noticed a white envelope on the floor by his front door. He went over and picked it up. Instantly he recognized the writing on the envelope was Mycroft’s. He raised a brow and opened the envelope. Inside with the key and a note.

_‘Gregory,_

_Here is my key back. The code is same as last time. I’m working late this week, maybe quite late. I would still like to see you though._

_Mycroft’_

Greg smiled and put the key on his key ring and the envelope and note away in his bedroom. He then got out a duffle bag and put a couple changes of clothes in along with his toothbrush and razor. He loaded the bag and himself into his car, excited for the night to come. Even if it was just sleeping next to Mycroft, that would be enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with chapter title.


	5. A Hard Day's Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Long time no update. So sorry about that, like I said I am finishing up my last semester in college, but here it the next chapter. The fiction is pretty much done, just a couple more chapters to be written then it will be down. Enjoy :)

 

The day had been worse than horrible, it was…well Greg could not describe it. A triple homicide with a side of kidnapping that ended with the killer/kidnapper in the morgue and a five year old in the hospital with a gun shot to the chest. Needless to say Greg needed a day off, what he got was a morning off and had to be back at work by noon looking for a serial killer.

Greg spoke his address before he remembered where he really wanted to spend the night. He corrected himself and the cabbie growled as he made a u-turn with horns blaring at them. Greg sat back in the cab and relaxed, thankful to at least be sleeping next to the other man.

When the cab stopped in front of Mycroft’s brownstone Greg paid the cabbie and exited the cab. He held his duffle bag in one hand and pulled out the keys with the other hand. He went through the gate and up the stone walk way. It was quite, but Greg knew that he was being watched by hidden cameras. Greg smiled as he reached the door. He punched in the code to revealed the lock which he unlocked with his key. 

It was late, 2 a.m. to be exact. Greg wondered whether the other was asleep or not, he may have not even be home. Greg slipped off his coat and hung it up, dropping his keys in the pocket. He then took off his shoes and left them by the door. Mycroft had the luscious carpet Greg had ever known and it would be a shame to walked over it with shoes. He sighed slightly as he walked over the beige carpet.

Mycroft’s house had been professionally decorated. He could not be bothered to do it himself. It was done in soft creams and tans with white and black accents and furniture. It was very soothing, maybe that was the reason Greg had always liked to come over. There was a bedroom downstairs that Mycroft had turned into his study. Greg remembered it very well. Well the dark cherry desk and what it was last used for. 

Upstairs were two more bedrooms, a guest room, that Greg wondered if it was ever used, with an en suite and the master. The master was a least the size of Greg’s whole flat. It had a sitting room and large closet that was about the same size as Greg’s own bedroom. The bed, oh god the bed, it was so soft but still structured. It probably cost a mint, but nothing was too good for Mycroft. The bathroom was just as luxurious as the bedroom.

The living room lamp was on, casting a soft yellow light into the room. Mycroft was sitting in a cream wing back chair reading. He closed the book and took off his reading glasses, he used only for pleasure reading, but they were sexy as hell. Mycroft sat the book down and the glasses on top of it before looking up at Greg.

“I was hoping you would come by.” Mycroft said, in that warm tone that sent a flare of arousal up Greg’s spine.

“What if I had not?” Greg asked, putting his duffle on the tan and white couch.

“I would have given up in another hour and called it a night.”

“Patient.”

“Very.” Mycroft looked the other up and down. “You need rest.” 

“I would rather have you.”

“Yes,” Mycroft stood. “While I would like that very much, I suspect that you would fall asleep before we finished, and I have it on great authority that you have the morning off. We can spend the night resting and the morning unwinding.” Greg grinned.

You need the night sleeping and the morning shagging.”

“That too.” Mycroft headed for the stairs and Greg followed behind.

Before, when they went up these stairs, they were either running up them to the bedroom, not that Mycroft would ever openly admit to being that eager, or they would go up them slowly, kissing as they went. This time it was just like going up any other kind of stairs. Once in the bedroom Mycroft closed the door and pulled Greg in for a kiss. Greg kissed back and removed Mycroft’s clothes, which were more numerous that Greg’s own. But they were able to get completely naked in record time. Mycroft pushed Greg onto the bed and knelt before him. Greg gasped, kneeling was unheard of form Mycroft.

“Don’t look so surprised. We both know you need this.” Mycroft said, stroking the other slowly.

“But on your knees, that is surprising.” Greg said, stroking his lover’s cheek. Mycroft chuckled and dipped his head down to take the other in his mouth. Twin groans filled the air. “Yes, My.” Greg panted. “Fucking love your mouth.”

There was something decedent about having Mycroft, if Sherlock was correct and was the government, on his knees using that mouth, that mouth that could crush men with two words, on Greg. Sex with Mycroft was everything that Greg had never believed was possible. Nothing like other sexual experiences, both male and female, and he had both under his belt. This is why he never talks about his Uni days. Mycroft took him deeper, making Greg’s cock hit the back of other’s throat. Greg groaned.

“Damn, My! Yes, just like that!” His hips moved on their own and Mycroft let him get a few thrusts in before he held down the other’s hips down, just using his tongue and lips to bring Greg to a crashing orgasm. And it was crashing. Greg was moaning and begging and when he thought it could not get any better Mycroft swallowed him down to the base and swallowed around him. 

Greg’s world went white for moment. When he came back to himself he was being tucked in. One thing about Mycroft Holmes that was particularly delightful was the fact that he tended to come at the same time or shortly there after Greg. Mycroft had said once it was because of the sounds Greg made as he was coming. Kittenish noises that Greg fervently denied making. Mycroft laid next to him and spooning up to him.

“Damn My. That was wonderful.” Turning his head to look at Mycroft. His eyes were closing and he was suddenly very tired.

“Good night, Gregory.” Mycroft said, kissing him gently on the lips.


	6. Talk

  


The morning after did not turn out exactly as planned. Greg was awoken by Mycroft getting up to go into work at six in the morning. Greg then fell back asleep for a few more hours and woke up at nine. He showered and dressed, then went to kitchen to fix himself some breakfast. After he finished the food he grabbed his coat at the front door and left. 

He took a cab to his flat to change clothes before heading into NSY. He didn’t have to be there yet but what else was he suppose to do until one?

When he arrived Sherlock was waiting in his office. Greg took off the coat and hung it up before closing the door. He went and sat in his chair and waited for Sherlock to speak. When he didn’t Greg prompted him.

“I hope you have some good news.”

“You were with my brother last night.”

“I thought we were done with that line of questioning.”

“It was a statement, not the question I was going to ask.” Sherlock looked at him.

“Then ask away.” Greg said leaning back in his chair.

“Why did you forgive my brother?” Greg blinked. He had not seen that question coming. He expected something more probative and less personal. But even Greg could see this was not about him and Mycroft it was about John and Sherlock.

“Short answer, I love him.”

“Love is sentiment, we Holmes do not love.”

“Yes you do. In your own screwed up way. I forgave him because he tried. He tried to show that he loves me.”

“Is that enough? Trying?”

“No, but it is a start. If you are worried John will leave you then you need to show him that heart you claim not to have.” Sherlock gave a not committal sound. “It is true. Moriarty may have called you brother the Iceman, but I have seen that his heart is not completely iced over. You are the same way. You need to show John that you love and care for him and that you never leave again.”

“I don‘t know if I can make that sort of promise.” Sherlock said, in an uncharacteristic sullen voice.

“Then you will lose your best friend and I will have to kick your arse for it.” Greg grinned.

“Only if you can.”

“Oh I can and I will.”

-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Sherlock found the killer as only Sherlock could, by using his homeless network he tracked down the killer to some warehouse, where the man did his “work.” He also made the man very angry by interrupting him. John was able to save the girl from her awful fate, when Sherlock caught the attention of the killer. John wanted to tell Sherlock not to be an idiot and goad the killer but Sherlock would not listen.

After securing the girl in an ambulance John, along with Greg and two other offices, stormed the building only to find Sherlock being held hostage by the killer. 

John would have liked to kick the both of them, the man that dared to hurt Sherlock and Sherlock for being so careless as to get caught. Greg, on the other hand was trying to work out where the rest of his men were. If someone could get behind the man then… There was a flash of metal and the man cried out. His gun went off, grazing Sherlock’s coat. The detective spun around and disarmed the man before he kicked him in the back of the knee. The killer when down the ground before anyone could take a breath. Sherlock jumped to get the man’s hands behind his back. Only then did Greg jump into action. He and John ran over and cuffed the man as John check Sherlock over but he was fine, save fore hole in his beloved jacket.

“Wow. I mean, I have never seen you move like that.” John said, a hand moving through his hair.

“Something I picked up on my time away. I had to or I would have never made it back to you.” John was genuinely speechless. “I know I may have been an arse, as you say, about many things, but I did disappear because I could not let Moriarty kill you and the others I consider friends.”

“But you could have told me, some how you could have…”

“Then you would have come looking for me,” Sherlock interrupted. “and there could have been others still watching you. I needed you to believe that I was dead, so if my mission failed, you would never know. I had assumed that when I came back you would forgive me, eventually. You are very forgiving man, but even you are not that forgiving. What I had not anticipated was the way I would feel about leaving you.”

“Hey, you two.” Greg called over to them. They have been having this very personal conversation in the warehouse as if they were in their own flat.

“We should talk about this at home.” John said, turning from Sherlock.

“If you will respond.” Sherlock fell into step beside him.

“Yes, I will listen to you, then you will listen to me.”


End file.
